


The Scars Will Fade In Time

by IwriteDreams



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Fluff, Komahina - Freeform, M/M, Self Harm, Sick Fic, Soft (tm), hiurt and confort, nagito hates himself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 05:01:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IwriteDreams/pseuds/IwriteDreams
Summary: Trigger warning! Self HARM!!!I actually do have a first-hand experience with this subject, so rest assured I won't write this incorrectly. I'm in no way trying to offend anybody, this got vent-y for me.It ended up being very cute though!!! <3





	The Scars Will Fade In Time

“I’m comin’, I’m comin!” Hinata groaned, before he could even really put a face to the voice. 

There’s a certain blurriness that he lays in, his legs sweaty in places where skin touched skin, his sheets clinging damply to his somewhat sticky figure. In the real life version, Jabberwock Island isn’t “tropical”- it’s a humid goddamn furnace. Revoltingly hot.

“Hinata? Can you hear me?”

‘It’s Mikan,’ He realizes dully, and just in time too, because he was just about to make a passive aggressive comment about having already answered. He rolls over in his slightly soggy bed, cursing the sweat everywhere and how disgusting it feels, swallowing down patches of a rather dry throat. “Whaddya need?” He calls, hopefully loud enough for her to hear from the outside. It sounds fairly urgent, and if Mikan has the supposed “gall” to come to him like this, it most likely is. But Hinata can’t find it in himself to care too much without context. He can barely hear her properly anyways. 

“It’s about Nagito!”

Suddenly he springs upright, electrified all the sudden because of course he cares about this now. The image of Nagito setting bombs is still ever-present in his mind, however something very different comes to mind when the name Nagito Komaeda is spoken now.

Hinata blames his hormones for that one. 

He realises that Mikan might look or feel rather silly and stupid shouting at him through the door like that, “Uh, come on in, Mikan!”

 

He runs a fast and nervous hand through his hair and kicks off the bedsheets hurriedly. Damn, the room is so stuffy, but there’s also something very uncomfortable about the idea of Mikan walking in on Hinata, not only shirtless, but lying in in bed, soaked in sweat and- let's not entertain this train of thought because there are so many ways for it to go downhill. The door opens just the slightest crack, and light pours in graciously at the top, but there's a silken, little shadow peeking in with just one eye- the shivering, self-conscious sliver of Mikan, timidly peeking inside. “Are you sure I can come i-in?”

Hinata almost groaned in exasperation again because cut to the chase, woman. Abruptly stopping himself because it’d be rude, and would probably have her tiptoeing and crying around him for months. “Yes, I’m sure, come in.”

There must’ve been magic in the air because, thankfully, Mikan comes in without much of a fight after that. She’s still shaking rather thoroughly, but there honestly isn’t too much Hinata can do about that. It’s just Tsukimi. 

“Hinata, I really do hate to throw this onto you, but, uh, I just checked on Nagito and he- he just came down with a very high fever...And I can’t spare a moment-t to check on him without canceling therapy plans with the others which of course I can do! But- oh gosh- they’d hate me so much and I can’t unless… you’re the only one I can really ask, so please, Hinata, could you watch Nagito for the d-day? Unless you can’t- in which case, I… I dunno… He needs help and as a nurse I should give it to him and oh, Hinata!” And because she’s Mikan, she bursts into big, wet tears on the spot, sniffling and sobbing as usual. Hinata almost suggests that she try writing scripts for soap operas but he likes Mikan, despite all the melodramatics. She’s a very strong woman with a lot to do, and is probably worth ten of him, so he refrains from doing any such thing. 

Hinata stands up fully now, shaky, sleep-trodden legs under him. “Hey! Hey, no need to cry, okay? No need at all, we’ve talked about this. I’m not mad at you, so don’t cry. Remember?” He’s approached Mikan, and has taken her by the shoulders. She looks him in the eyes with tears rolling down her face. “I’ll go help out Nagito. No problem, alright? Leave him to me. I’ll keep him alive and feeling as good as I can make him-” Nice word choice Hajime, had she known what you two had done… conclusions would’ve been drawn. “I’ll go check on him now, okay?”

He feels as though he’s talking to a five year old, but it doesn’t matter. “You’re not mad?” She asks with a hiccup. “No, Mikan… I’m not mad at all.” He really is soothing her, and he lets go of her shoulders. “I’m not mad or upset, or anything. I’m just worried for Nagito. I’m happy to help you.”

“Oh, o-okay!” She smiled, wiping her eyes. “I need to go find Nekomaru now, but… Thank you, Hinata!” She says, and it’s a damned good thank you. She lets herself out in a hurricane of emotion but Hinata is happy he somehow handled that without a shirt on, or any sense of composure whatsoever. Pretty impressive, even for him. 

...He’s also in his underwear, so yeah, he's going to count the whole “handled a serious conversation thing right off the bat” as a pretty decent accomplishment. Hopefully Mikan didn’t pay too much mind to pastel pink undergarments. He tries to put the whole thought out of his mind as he goes to go dress himself, now thinking of Nagito. 

Nagito was his boyfriend as of two weeks ago, though they hadn’t done anything beyond the title, really. Nagito had gotten him flowers a couple days ago as a “no reason” surprise, claiming that he never needed a reason to do something nice for Hinata (Honestly one of the cutest things he’d ever heard). There had been a few kisses on the cheek, all of which he had initiated because Nagito was as shy as he was unstable. It was recent, so Hinata still sometimes found himself staring down a basin of unsettling conversation topics, and he would occasionally struggle to look Nagito squarely in the eye on some days, especially if he was telling him something he didn’t want to hear. Was he in love? Probably. Was there was a less corny way of putting it? Certainly. However, Hinata had found that problems in communication don’t fix themselves because you’ve upgraded from “crush” to “boyfriend”, no matter how he wished they did. It wouldn't be that easy. 

After deciding that wearing his usual tie on a day like this might suffocate him, and could potentially be a borderline suicidal choice, he leaves it behind. He buttons up his shirt clumsily as he leaves his cottage, bound for Nagito’s own in the beating sun. 

Already heavily regretting stepping out the door this morning, he rushes as fast as he can to Nagito’s cottage, only because he wants to get out of the heat. He’s flicking the sleep that’s solidifying in his fingers as he goes, the heat baking his sleep-addled brain. Nobody else seemed to be out and about- it was probably a good thing, because he wants to bet that he doesn’t look very put-together right now, and Hinata's been pretty big on self-awareness ever since the program. A couple gulls are squawking over his head, and it reminds him of how they all argue amongst themselves nowadays. 

Before he knows it, he’s tapping against Nagito’s door hurriedly. “Nagito? Can I come in?”

 

There's a brief pause in which Hinata wonders if Nagito’s fallen asleep again, as sick as he is, but eventually he hears a small “Hinata? Come in.” He pushes the door open. 

Nagito’s in bed, jacket over his shoulders, two fans in the corner buzzing away contentedly. Houseplants fill the immediate area. His covers are all gathered at the very edge of his bed away from him, and he rests weakly on his side, his dull eyes lighting up as he sees Hinata.

“Hinata… so it was you,” Nagito’s voice sounds so very weak. “Good to see you…”

Hinata can’t help but smile when he steps in. Seeing Nagito all curled up like that is easy on his eyes. He looks so cute and content there, with a lopsided grin spread across a sleepy face, aimed at him. He may just be delirious with sickness, and that could be why he’s so lost in thought, but Hinata guiltlessly puts the image into his back pocket for later. 

He moves over a bit, and Hinata takes that as an invitation to sit down on the bed beside him, gazing down mindlessly. If Nagito has a problem with it, he’d say so. “I heard from Mikan you weren’t feeling well,” He admits, beside himself when he sees how Nagito’s expression softens even more as he starts to speak. “I just came to keep an eye on you. She won’t be back until tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind me staying a while.”

“Of course not.” Nagito offers up, his eyes still looking unfocused. Hinata can’t help himself, and he reaches down to brush a strand of white hair out of his face and, when it persists, tucking it behind his ear for him. “Do you need anything right now?”

Nagito shakes his head slightly, his eyes taking in the morning light as he looks at Hinata like he’s just descended from heaven. Just being next to Nagito always makes Hinata feel so needed. Nagito mumbles nothing more than a simple, “Just stay, please.”

Hinata thinks it speaks worlds of how far they’ve come that Hinata now trusts Nagito to tell him when something is wrong. He trusts him to tell him when he needs something, or wants.

“Do you need to sleep?” He asks. Even though he spends quite a bit of time with Nagito, it’s not very often he gets the excuse to fuss over him without too much resistance, and for all the stupid, cheesy fantasies Hinata has of doing the very thing, he isn’t going to let go of it that easily. Besides, he’s started to stroke Nagito's hair, so he may as well complete the whole “I’m your worried boyfriend” thing here and now. There are gentle tangles under his fingers. Soft fibers, pink cheeks. If he does need to sleep, Hinata is more then happy to watch him quietly, or leave, if Nagito finds that unsettling.

“Just stay,” Nagito repeats again, which is good, because he doesn’t look so well, and causing him to say to much more will probably make Hinata start worrying even more then he is, which is bordering on a tad obsessed. 

“I’m stayin’, I’m stayin’, jeez,” He chuckles. “I’m not going to leave you like this, I promise.”

Nagito lets his smile blossom and falter as he weakly closes his eyes. Hinata still stroking his hair. Hinata looks around, knowing Mikan has already been here, and confirms his suspicions as he spots a first aid kid she’d left on the bedside table for them, to the left of a rather hearty-looking purple orchid. He eyed the thermometer outside of the case. 

“Hey, what was your temperature?” He asked. “I assume Mikan took it?”

Nagito hummed, shifting closer, eyes still closed. “98 degrees,” He mumbles. Like he’s trying to brush it off, like it isn’t a big deal at all. 

“98?! Nagito, that’s really bad, are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Anything at all…? 

No Hinata, that’s a very bad thing- stop that right there.

Hinata takes a moment to pull his hand out of Nagito's soft hair, and rests the back of it on his forehead, sure enough it was scorching to the point of alarm. This damn tropical setting sure wasn’t helping. “Seriously Nagito, how are you feeling, what do you need?” And now Hinata isn’t as positive that Nagito is telling him everything. A little bit of that trust went out the window when he got some perspective. Maybe it’ll take Nagiro some more time to really open up. 

“Seriously Hinata… I’m okay, it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Hinata flinches now because that is anything but promising. He had been so sure a couple of seconds ago that they had gotten past that point. The whole “let me suffer in silence because I hate myself” thing. It’ll just have to be something they work on together, perhaps. Hinata’s willing to wait an eternity for Nagito, if that’s how long it takes. Which is weird to think about, the fact that Hinata has fallen so badly for not only a guy, but for the most unlikely person there, and to the point that he’s willing to think such things without cringing. 

It’s impressive in a weird way honestly. 

Before he can even begin to jump down that rabbit hole, he leans in, and plants a kiss on Nagito’s forehead. His heart jumps to his throat, and sounds like a rabbit stomping away. “Butterflies in his stomach” doesn’t do it a justice- it’s more like a fleet of birds with beating wings, and Nagito’s forehead is even more hot under his more sensitive lips. 

“Nagito…” He swiftly buried the urge to call him honey because he’d rather die than have a 3rd party hear him say that, and because he isn’t exactly all that sure he could live with himself if he did. “You’re running a 98 degree fever, and you’re trying to tell me that you’re fine?”

Nagito, instead of putting up a fight about it, just stays quiet which does nothing but confirm to Hinata that something really isn’t right because normally Nagito would be having all kinds of defensive backlash seeping out of his every pore. This time he appears to tire immediately start a verbal firefight, which is honestly all the evidence Hinata needs. 

Hinata clenches a disappointed sigh between his teeth. No need to give him grief over such a thing. He’s alone, and mentally broken, and is going through physical therapy for a new prosthetic arm, and- the cherry on top- he was now down with a horrible fever. WIth a nice helping of instability and self-deprecation on the side. All that clumped together didn’t make an ideal person to be impatient with, or a formidable opponent when it came to mind games. 

If it was him playing the mind game on you, however? Very different story. 

Hinata blinks when he realises a very glaring problem that he’s somehow already noticed yet overlooked the moment he walked in the door, and it’s huge. While he’d love to stay here, petting Nagito’s head all day as he sleeps, subtle whispers between them as they talked nonsense, tripping over himself when he became nervous or flustered but…

“...Nagito, you should take off your coat at least.” He said. “You’ll be cooler without it.” 

It almost feels as though there’s something in his mouth, and he struggles to tell him that.

“Ah, Hinata, I said I was fine, didn’t I? It’s nothing to be concerned with, I assure you.”

Hinata raised his eyebrows because that isn’t right. He's never seen Nagito without his jacket before and he has to wonder why he puts up with it. Yes, Nagito has always been sickly but there just has to be a reason for it. He’s going to have a heat stroke if this whole thing keeps up.

“Nagito, please take off the jacket.”

“Hinata, I honestly- can’t.”

WIth that, Hinata stops petting though Nagito's mane of hair, and withdraws his hands to his own side when something Mikan once said to him a couple weeks ago resurfaces. It probably has nothing to do with being self conscious about his arm, an intricate, chrome-steel gadget Future Foundation had sent to them. It could be something else entirely. He’d rather not think about it, or even consider the possibility and even probability of such an event, but it’s right there waiting for him, and doing much else in resistance isn’t very clever. 

“Are you… hiding something from me?”

“Not anything you need to be viscerally aware of,” came the completely even and rather fast reply. Either way, Hinata knew he’d struck some chord of some kind, which wasn’t honestly the thing he wanted to be doing at this moment in time. “I’m not worth it.”

Nagito's voice is so comfortable, it makes Hinata vaguely depressed. Nobody Nagito’s age should have to sound so attuned to failure, to defeat, or heartache as a whole.

“I wasn’t joking Komaeda.” He uses his last name this time around, practically spits it out because there’s a certain barbed prickle about addressing him like that. “Take off that jacket, now.”

Instead of taking it off, Nagito shifts upwards, shuffling so he can sit upright in his pillows, in a feeble attempt to be at eye level. 

“Nagito, please don’t lie to me. Something is wrong. Please don’t make me take off that coat for you.”  
Nagito’s expression suddenly changes from that of an attacked animal to a devilish glint that takes Hinata a moment to piece together. 

“Not- Not like that!” he covers for himself, blushing angrily, feeling as though he’d walked into that one.  
“Oh, but Hinata, I am oh-so-intrigued by the way this is going. Please continue…” Nagito whispered teasingly. Hinata had to close his eyes for a moment as he attempted to will away a slight boner. Good god, if words could kill Hinata would've died several times over. 

“Stop distracting me.” Hinata says, trying to muster some resemblance of firmness in his voice. Because it’s working. That part he leaves out. “Nagito, I already have a pretty good idea of what’s happening here, I’m not stupid. You’re not sparing me anything by doing this… please just take off the coat.”

Nagito stares him straight in the eye and it’s honestly ridiculous that Hinata, with Iruzu Kamukura together, the SHSL martial artist, kendo master, bodybuilder, weight lifter, wrestler, boxer, tai-chi artist, karate expert and more, could feel intimidated, afraid even, by a sickly teenager in his bed. It should be the other way around, and it just isn’t. Nagito is just full of surprises like that. Then he remembers who’s in charge- as decided by him.

“You aren't going to like what you see,” Nagito says before Hinata can assert himself.

Hinata studies the expression of discomfort on Nagito’s sunken face, concave cheekbones, owlish eyes. Hinata registers that it’s a warning, not a deterrent. 

“You’ll feel better with it off.” He reminds him.

“Will you?” Nagito proposes. 

Probably not. Hinata bites his lip as he debates for a solid half second whether or not he should tell Nagito that he truly cares when he’s hurting. He decides against it temporarily because he figures that Nagito already knows he does, whether he accepts it or not, no matter how skeptical he is. Hinata doesn’t need to say the same thing twice if it’s not going to make a difference. Besides, Nagito would take the conversation topic change as an easy way out, which Hinata would not give him the satisfaction of having. 

“It doesn’t matter how I feel. Take it off. Now.”

There must’ve been some overdue frustration in his voice because suddenly Nagito scrambles to comply, sitting up sharply on his own, and starts to shoulder off the heavy parka. He gets about halfway through the process, arms still covered, because he suddenly freezes, and blankly looks like he's about to faint.

“Hey, hey, careful!” Hinata coddles him, gently pushing his shoulders back into the pillows. “I got it, just here.. Let me.”

 

Nagito sighs and closes his eyes again, settling down, as he allows Hinata to grab the shoulders of the fabric and loosely pull them off his arms. 

Immediately, Hinata lets the removed coat sleeves flutter down to the surface of the mattress with the rest of it, pinned under Nagito, whose eyes are now clenched shut as if his life depends on it, more then anything. If they were open, they’d be staring anywhere except Hinata’s face, and-

“Holy shit…”

He couldn't tear his eyes off of them. There were dark reds, and maroons- so many variations of red that HInata didn’t even know existed until that point. Obliteration. Nagito’s thin arms, basically just bone covered delicately with skin, appeared to be white from a lack of sunlight in most places, starved from light by the heavy sleeves the coat offered up, but they were raised with huge gashes. Long, a variety of thin and widened, sharp edged cuts, like the tool that likely made them, his arms were butchered without so much a square centimeter of breathing space. Like Nagito looked for every last place to insert a knife that wouldn’t cut over a fresh wound. Maybe when he’d run out of new space, he’d dug into the older ones, too. The cut areas of skin rose and fell with every swelling around a slice, and every fall into the miniscule parts of white. The rest was an irritated pink to red around the stripes he’d carved into himself. Far up near his collarbone and over his shoulders the streaks were all white disappearing under the crimson. Cutting over the existing scars. Hinata felt his stomach flip itself inside out when his eyes follow one of the deepest gashes of all, wondering how much it must’ve bled to leave a scab that dark and musky. Caught in his own shock Hinata didn't realise he had raised his hand, which didn’t even feel like it was attached to him anymore, as he lightly pressed the pad of his fingertips on the surface of the broken skin, feeling it skipping over the rough patches of the wounds. The smoothness of the swelling to the gravel roads of scabs and scars coating every bare inch of himself. Every patch of skin in sight was completely slaughtered-

By his own hand. 

Hinata briefly felt his vision began to swim as he reclaimed his touch, and, suddenly snapping to his senses, he let out a startled squeal and immediately revoked his offending fingers and started. It was so red, and- it must have been missed, the way he was brutalising himself, and how had Nagito not bled out at this point? Why hadn’t he known? How often must he do this to have scars of that magnitude?

“Nagi-” And damn it all, he can’t even muster words now. He can’t even conceive what this is.

“I truly am disgusting, aren't I?” Nagito says finally, opening his eyes to gaze at something that must be very enthralling on the far wall. 

“Why… Nagito, what the fuck?! What have you done to yourself?” Hinata’s ready to snap, ready to fucking lose it when he feels something on his cheek, and he figures out why his vision had been getting so blurry. 

“...Hinata? Oh god, you’re crying- Please go Hinata, don’t even look at me. Just leave, you don’t need to see this, I don’t know what I was thinking go please-”

Nagito's begging doesn’t quite register in Hinata’s head by the time he’s willed up every part of strength that he and Kamakura share and pounded a heavy fist onto the mattress with a half growl, and Kamakura’s strength registers in the reinforced bed-frame as a creaking sound almost as hollow as Nagito’s voice. 

“Why did you do this?!” He can’t even help himself yelling. But he knows it isn’t what he should be doing.

“Why do I do any of this?” He asked. “Hinata, I’ve murdered so many people in my lifetime, and this is what upsets you? I deserve so much worse- I deserve to be dead in that warehouse.”

“Stop it, stop it.” Hinata is now speaking through tears. “Nagito, I don’t get it, why?”

 

“Can I be any more clear? It’s obvious. I am responsible for so many bad things, and this is something I need to do.”

“Need to do?”

“I haven't stopped.”

 

It wasn’t, but Hinata sure as hell didn’t want to hear that interpretation of it either.

Hinata seizes up. He hiccups, unsure why his tears had taken him up so suddenly, like a flash flood. This is all too much.

“What did you get out of this?” Hinata’s voice is more begging for relief then an answer of any kind. “Why bother?”

“This pain is so miniscule compared to what those people, to what you all have endured by keeping me alive. Because I am not allowed to take my own life, this is the next best thing. It’s-”

“Stop!” Hinata cries, and he still can’t get a handle on why or when he became so emotional but hearing Nagito say that, and looking at the completely scored flesh isn't doing things for him, it really isn’t. Not anything pleasant. 

The heat is oppressive. 

“If you really want to die so badly…. Why are you here? You can’t do this, you know-...” Hinata’s words are beginning to fail him. “You can’t do this to yourself because of me… Because I won’t let you die.”

Nagito doesn’t dignify the statement with a reply of any kind, He just reaches down for Hinata’s hand, the one still planted in his mattress, and holds it. His hand is clammy, and he thinks he might be shaking but he can’t really tell for sure. 

Without thinking, because Hinata hasn’t been doing too much of that the whole exchange and why start now, he grabs the back of his hands, raises them up to his lips and starts to pepper them with small kisses. Desperately. Like he’s scared- and he is. He has both of his hands in his own, metal and flesh, and he thinks about the cuts, and how they completely cut off past a certain point. From there and downward was even porcelain. Who cares about being mushy, Hinata vaguely decides, for now at least. Hinata was crying, Nagito had scared himself beyond recognition and he was still running a very bad fever. Kissing the backs of his hands wasn’t the weirdest thing they had done today. 

Nagito apparently has no complaints about this development, and Hinata catches a bit of a whimsical sigh as he kisses around a joint of his prosthetic, before Hinata leans away, and just holds the hands in his own. 

“I guess…. I’m just trying to ask.” Hinata says, wiping away tears on his shoulder because just holding Nagito’s had has him completely transfixed, and he’s trying to regain some level of composure. “Who are you helping by doing that?”

“I’m helping myself, Hinata.”

“Helping?”

“Helping. It makes me feel so much better. The guilt, and… You wouldn’t understand.”

 

“You’re right, I clearly don’t!” His voice breaks off. 

“I hate myself so much that I want to die, but when I hurt myself it tells me that I’m at least trying to make some attempt at atonement. Rather than sitting here uselessly withering away.” 

“But what’s the point?”

Nagito huffed, but it was so weak, so tired. “I honestly don’t think I can explain it in any clearer terms. I really can’t.”

Hinata had at least earned back his self control, smudging the last handful of tears on his shirt as he counted his own heartbeat in a feeble attempt to calm down. He wasn’t surprised when Nagito’s hand wormed its way out from under him, and wrapped around his back, pulling him in closer. Instead he takes the presented opportunity as a way to embrace him. Nagito still looks rather lost over the whole thing.

Maybe this was Gundam's alleged ‘will of causality.’

Hinata folds his own arms around Nagito’s neck around a soft feather pillow and he has to fight the urge to now bury his face into his jutting collarbone then and there. Hinata feels Nagito start to rub his back gracefully before he hears a whisper in his ear. 

“Maybe it’s something you can’t understand second hand.”

Like dying, Hinata almost says, bitterly.

“It makes me feel better, and that’s all you need to know.”

“Yes, but it’s not healthy!” Hinata says. “It should be common sense, you know, to not hurt yourself?”

“Why?”

 

“Why not?” He protests, because Nagito isn’t even remotely phased of course, and here he is, losing his shit. “Because you shouldn’t injure yourself!”

 

“Harming myself is the entire point.” He said. “Why should I stop? It makes me feel better. Why should I need to stop?”

“It’s dangerous?!” Hinata isn’t really sure what Nagito is trying to say anymore. He isn’t sure Nagito understands him either, because their dialogue appears to be running in circles repeatedly with very few signs of actual, tangible progression.

“They don’t get infected.”

“Why? Because there are better ways to…” But his arguments are washing dry. And they’re both so close to being told they're wrong. 

“I need to do this. There is no reason to stop. It’s never caused any problems until today, and it helps me. I won’t die. I can’t. What about it makes it wrong?” 

The realisation that Nagito truly believes that he’s right is the biggest insult of all. It’s not that Hinata wants to agree with any of this, but It’s very hard to fight against someone who believes with every fiber of their being that they know better. Besides, at this stage, a simple “It just isn’t right” will be nothing but white noise, static. 

“Nagito, I don’t want you to hurt yourself… I care about you.” Is all he can come up with. It really is a feeble thing. Hinata has been taught his whole life to never do these kinds of things, no self-harm, no drug abuse, stay positive, the works. He’s never seen the appeal in doing anything like it ever.But, maybe Nagito is right, and because he’s never been in a place as dark as Nagito he can’t really understand why it happened, why it’s happening. Nagito sure as hell hasn’t done this for anybody but himself. Still, it’s claimed both of his arms.

“Hinata… I really appreciate that you do care when I’m hurting, but please don’t waste your pity… because if I am to be honest?” He raises one arm ,and Hinata cringes, just seeing Nagito wield it as his own, is a whole new perspective. “This isn’t about you. It’s about me, so what you feel doesn’t quite factor in.”

“I just don’t understand.”

“I know…” Nagito leaned in, and apparently picked up Hinata’s affection from earlier, putting a metal hand behind his head, rubbing up and down. “I know, and that's okay… just please know that there will be no stopping me.”

“ I have to think that!” But his dignity and stubbornness is getting dampened as his face falls into the crook of Nagito’s neck where it belongs. “Harming yourself isn’t a solution.”

“You’re right.” And all the water seems to be far calmer than it was just moments ago. “It’s an escape.”

Hinata groaned “But it’s wrong- Nagito it really makes me worry… We can find better escapes for you, okay? Really all you needed to do was ask.”

 

“Asking would’ve only caused more trouble. I’m so sorry that it’s you who has to deal with it. I did tell you to not remove it, did I not?”

“It’s not really trouble-”

“It is, and saying it's not doesn’t change the fact. An apple isn't an orange just because you say so! You’re still going out of your way for me, even if you say you aren't. Saying it's ‘no trouble’ doesn't mean the inconvenience I caused you is alright or not an inconvenience.”

Nagito has pulled away now, and is starring Hinata in the eye. Hinata feels his patience and resolve of the situation running dry under his gaze once more, and he wonders how long this will go on for. 

“Nagito, you have to understand, I don’t mind helping you. Not at all.”

 

“Well I’m not you’re fucking charity case, okay?!” And Hinata can tell by the sole desperation that this has been on his mind for a while. “I’m not your community service project! I can’t let you do that.”

Hinata feels Nagito’s hand involuntarily clenching the back of his shirt, and Hinata finds he has nothing to say for a moment. Nagito breaths for a moment, eyes bristling, before he slackened under Hinata and stares at the wall again. 

Hinata, starting to feel like he’s digging his own grave in this silence, because he probably is, decides he’d like to start playing with Nagito’s hair again. He bravely puts a hand between the strands and starts running his hand along, with no opposition beyond an annoyed glance. 

“Your’e worried that you take but never give, am I getting this correct?” He finally clarifies after a moment. 

“Yes.”

“It’s even. You listen to me complain, you keep me company when I push everybody else away, you wait for me in the diner to make me tea each morning, you’re funny and… you make me smile. You surprise me, you’re so gentle with your stupid houseplant, you’re a dork, you make me happy… That’s more than I could ever give you. You do things for me. The very least I could do is help you out here, because I-” Hinata gags at his own sickly sweet words. “I care.” He settles for. 

“It’s still not even.” 

“How is it not even?” Hinata sputters. “If anything I should be worrying about being the one who’s bothering you! This is all backwards!”

Nagito finally turns to look at him again at least. “Hinata, you are worth more than-” but he never does get to finish that thought, because Hinata has taken the liberty to kiss him. Even if it’s for a fleeting moment, and doesn’t last, over almost as soon as it started clim Nagito falls silent for a moment. 

“It’s not going to magically stop just because you said so.”

“... I know.” HInata admits. “I wish it would.”

Nagito pulls out some contorted hum from somewhere. Not quite agreeing or disagreeing.

Hinata, now realising the exchange now falls to him by default asks “So uh… hey… can you maybe move over a bit?”

He resorts to it because his tired self can’t really think of a better band-aid solution just then. A short term solution being ideal until Nagito has made a full recovery. “Mikan woke me up early this morning and I’m tired.” He complained. “You need rest too, now please move your fine ass out of the way because I want to join you…”

Nagito shifts a little out, and Hinata climbs into the bed beside him, looking closely at the greenish red scarred arms with a grimace, and a vow to have them healing as soon as he can. 

“Will you please try to cut down on the self harm until we find a better solution at least?”

Hinata wasn’t entirely making up some excuse to snuggle with his boyfriend, he really was tired thanks to Mikan, and so long as it didn’t cause Nagito any trouble, Hinata had every last intention on taking a nap with him.

“I can’t make any promises but… I suppose I could try. If you really mind it so much. Gosh, a nuisance no matter what I do…”

 

“Shut up.” Hinata mumbled, rolling over on his side and leaning over to put a face in Nagito’s shoulder. He curled into Nagito’s side. It was insanely sappy but who needed to know? It was just him and Nagito.

He lazily threw an arm over Nagito’s torso and let out a positive hum in hopes it would communicate to Nagito that things were really alright now. 

Eventually they had morphed into some pile of limbs, clinging to one another, and Hinata reflects on what Nagito said. 

“I’ll try.”

There is no more overnight healing to be done for any of them, but trying is always the first and last steps to any kind of progress, so Hinata will hold out hope.

**Author's Note:**

> this was a request on my tumblr @iwriteyousequal from a while back, and I decided to post it.


End file.
